


without reserve

by Saraste



Series: KINKTOBER 2020 [22]
Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, Kinktober, M/M, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-24
Updated: 2020-10-24
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:21:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27179140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saraste/pseuds/Saraste
Summary: Jaskier really likes rimming Geralt.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: KINKTOBER 2020 [22]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1949290
Comments: 5
Kudos: 122





	without reserve

**Author's Note:**

> Written for day 22.rimming of KINKTOBER 2020.

Rimming was an absolute delight and the best thing, really, mostly because of Geralt’s reactions to it and how  _ that _ made Jaskier enjoy it even more than what he always had.

And knowing, through Geralt's admission, which he wouldn’t have even needed based on his visceral reactions the first time, that he was the first ever to do it to Geralt, play with his hole until the big scary Witcher was all but melted under his touch… that was something special, precious, a thing only the two of them shared.

Jaskier had never thought that Geralt was anywhere near a blushing virgin, so it had surprised him that he  _ hadn’t _ been touched like that. 

He couldn’t fathom how anyone wouldn’t want to out their mouth all over Geralt’s body, but then… Geralt was scarred, menacing, sometimes the latter even in bed, the first always, and having someone’s tongue inside, well, that was unquestionably intimate, wasn’t it?

Then there was the fact that no-one before Jaskier seemed to never have suggested doing that to Geralt and the Witcher hadn’t thought to ask for it.

The now and then blended together as he listened to Geralt’s moans and ragged breaths and felt his body opening up under his administrations, the ring of muscle fluttering under his tongue as he gave it his best, as always.

*

‘ _ You want to what?’ Geralt asks, face a picture of confusion. _

_ Jaskier looks at him, assessing the genuineness of his confusion, deciding that he needs to be as blunt as a knife between the ribs. He uses his hands for emphasis, just in case. He gestures at his mouth, sticking his tongue out and wiggling it. ‘I want to put my mouth on your asshole,’ he gestures towards Geralt’s backside, ‘and fuck you with my tongue and lick and maybe bite until you are incoherent with lust.’ _

_ Geralt frowns, like he cannot fathom why anyone would like to do such a thing and what for and why to him. ‘But why? What will you get out of it?’ _

_ He shakes his head, there’s nothing to it, and his heart jolts because Geralt still seems to think that his partner only gets something out of sex, or will want to have sex with him, if there’s something concrete in it for them, a clear-cut path to a climx. ‘Because you’ll like it. And seeing and hearing you like it will please me.’ _

_ Geralt doesn’t look convinced, even when he has let and done almost every other thing with and to Jaskier so far. But this… this is about more trust than what those have required. _

_ He reaches out. ‘Do you trust me?’ _

_ After a mere moment’s hesitation Geralt's big hand surrounds his own, warm and familiar, strong enough to break bones. ‘Yes.’ _

_ ‘As I trust you.’ WIth his safety, his body and his heart. ‘Will you let me try?’ _

_ Those once unsettling eyes, now familiar and beloved, look at him, unwavering. Geralt searches his face for something and apparently finds it because he nods. Then he sniffs, deep and long, and his mouth opens in a feral grin because he can detect Jaskier’s clear and definite arousal, as if his hard cock hasn’t given it out. _

_ ‘Yes.’ _

_ * _

And Geralt had liked it then, much like now, had writhed under Jaskier without reserve. The only difference between then and now was in that his moans and groans lacked the spice of surprised delight that had so peppered the first time and driven Jaskier to such a height of arousal he’d come against the sheets before even Geralt had.

Geralt tasted of soap and himself, now as then, and his body opened so that Jaskier could stab his tongue inside. His fingers were denting the supple flesh of his ass, now littered with bite marks which would fade before morning, keeping Geralt open for him.

He had him coming, shuddering and shifting, against the sheets with just his tongue inside him.

And he only stopped when Geralt begged, overcome, much much later.

  
  



End file.
